


estranged

by mmaximilian



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dark Tony Stark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, Gaslighting, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Rape/Non-con Elements, Statutory Rape, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmaximilian/pseuds/mmaximilian
Summary: Tony Stark was never a good father. He wasn't around and when he was he treated Peter like shit. Peter knew he should hate Tony, but he just couldn't bring himself to. Tony is more than happy to take advantage of Peter's forgiving nature.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 87





	estranged

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of Tale of the Estranged, my first fic on this acc.

Peter was sitting on his bed.

He could hear May and Tony arguing on the other side of his thin bedroom door.

He tried to block it out, but had little success. The vitriolic words seeped through and into his brain despite his every attempt to ignore them.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you make excuses for the umpteenth time,” May said, “you’ve been given plenty of chances to prove yourself and every time you fuck it up.”

Tony said, desperation raw in his voice, “I am trying my absolute best. I’ve been going through so much recently-”

“Bullshit,” May hissed, “you are so full of bullshit, Tony! You could be here for Peter if you really wanted to.”

Tony sputtered, but quickly regained his footing, “You don’t understand.”

“No, I do. I do understand, Tony, this isn’t about you or how you feel or what you can or can’t do. This is about Peter,” May said.

Tony said, “I know.”

“Do you? Do you? Every word that leaves your mouth is a shit-stained lie all about you. You only care about yourself,” May yelled.

Then there’s silence for the first time since Tony had knocked on their dingy apartment door.

Peter looked up at the framed photo of him and Tony.

A burning bile rose in his throat and his eyes pooled with resolutely unshed tears. He trapped his sobs in his throat. It was a pathetic attempt to suffocate the feeling of betrayal. But he hoped that ignoring his acute emotions might make the pain go away.

But life isn’t that simple, not for Peter anyway.

He choked on his tears. He muffled small, pitiful cries into the sleeve of his oversized sweater.

He tried to lock the pain away in his chest. He hoped that by hiding his pain he’d be helping ease the strained familial relationship between him and Tony.

If Peter feigned happiness for a little while longer then possibly everything could go back to the way it was. Before all of the fighting, before everyday felt like a chore.

Was it ever happy, though?

A potent and resonant sorrow dragged him down, down, down. He kept falling down, down, down until he was deeper in the pits of despair than he ever thought possible.

Why was this happening to him? Hadn’t he been good? Hadn’t he tried his best?

Peter couldn’t tell you the last time he felt truly happy.

A tentative knock pulled Peter from his thoughts. He looked up and he knew it was Tony.

“Yeah?” He called out. His voice cracked under the weight of his sobs.

The door slowly opened and revealed Tony. He looked worn out; dark bags under his charcoal eyes, fine lines carving his olive skin, and a permanently furrowed brow.

Peter felt bad for him.

“Hey, kid,” Tony said as he smiled solemnly.

Peter stared at his hands, “Hi.”

He risked a glance at Tony. 

Tony’s eyes were trained on him. Peter watched as regret pooled into the older man’s dark eyes. He felt like he was being pinned down by Tony’s stare.

Peter snapped his head down to stare at his hands again.

Tony sighed and began, “I’m sorry.”

“You always say that,” Peter said softly.

Tony said, “I know. I mean it every time.”

“If you meant it you wouldn’t have to keep repeating it,” Peter said.

He was close to choking on his words. Every syllable was a chore to get out and breathing felt like an impossible task. His chest clenched tightly. The pain was almost unbearable. It would’ve been too, if he hadn’t been used to this already.

Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just be happy? Why was he so upset at his father’s visit? Why is he acting so ungrateful?

Is he broken?

Tony sat next to Peter who nearly flinched from the older man’s touch.

Peter couldn’t control the way his entire body went tense, nor could he contain the trembles that ran through him entirely unbidden.

Peter shook his head and asked, “Why do you keep coming back?”

His voice was weak and stray tears fell from his honey eyes. He looked up into Tony’s eyes.

Tony stared back at him, a pained expression painted on his face, and he grabbed Peter’s delicate hands into his own.

“Because I love you, Petey,” Tony said, “you know that.”

Peter laughed humorlessly, “You really don’t.”

“I really do,” Tony said, “and I hurt too. I do care about you and I do want to see you.”

Peter paused and sniffled. He was a moment away from breaking down entirely.

Tony continued, “I know you have no reason to trust me and I know I haven’t been a good father in the past. It’s my fault. I am going to change, but I need you, Petey. I can’t do this without you, baby, you know how much you mean to me.”

Peter asked, “Really?”

“Really,” Tony said as he nodded.

Peter asked, “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” Tony said.

Peter asked, “You’re really going to be here this time? You mean it?”

“Yes, baby,” Tony said, “I’m getting better. Just give me one more try.”

A vile feeling rose in Peter’s stomach all the way to his throat. A thick, malicious bile took him over. It was a passionate rage. His father had betrayed his trust one too many times.

“You always say one more and then you fuck it up like always,” Peter said, “just admit it already, Tony, you don’t love me. You have never loved me, not for a moment. You only cared about how useful I was to you.”

He was flustered from his rancor. He felt hot all over and adrenaline sent a stinging feeling through him.

The silence following was loud.

Tony said, “You don’t know how much I love you. How much I care about you. I’m always thinking about you, my baby.”

Peter’s face twitched. 

His mind flooded with all the previous times Tony had said that same exact thing. All those other times where Tony had promised things would be different. And, yet, every time Peter found himself being abandoned by Tony.

He sneered, full of ire and anguish, “I don’t care.”

“You do,” Tony said, “I know you, Petey, I know how much you care.”

Peter said, “How would you know shit about me? You’re never fucking around, asshole.”

“I will be if you give me one more chance,” Tony said, his voice sounded broken and begging, “just one more chance.”

“You don’t deserve it,” Peter said.

Tony nodded, “I know, baby, please.”

A sickly feeling that burned rose in Peter’s throat. He whimpered and broke down into helpless tears as he failed to contain the constricting, tight sorrow filling his heart.

Tony reached out to pull Peter in for a hug and Peter accepted the affection.

He sobbed haplessly into his father’s protective hold.

Peter said through sniffles, “You always promise. You always say you’ll try and that you’ll be there, but you never are. Not until you want something from me, not until you want to use me.”

Tony said, “I do love you, honey, I do. I do. You’re my hope, you’re the reason I do what I do. I care about you so much. You couldn’t possibly know how much I love you, baby.”

Silence flooded the room and drowned Peter. He felt like he was dying. The world around him faded away until the only thing left was Tony.

“I’ll call you every day, hang out with you on the weekends, I’ll go to those PTA meetings or whatever. I will do whatever you want me to. Whatever you need me to do to prove to you that I care,” Tony said, his voice raw with sincerity.

Peter’s pillars of skepticism buckled under the weight of Tony’s empty reassurances. Those lies dressed up as pretty promises felt much better than the sickening truth. They eased the storm in Peter’s stomach.

Peter looked up at Tony, into those deceptively kind eyes.

Tony was a drug and Peter couldn’t help that he was an addict. Peter wasn’t strong enough to hold up his guard. He couldn’t bear to face the disgusting reality that surrounded him.

“I…” He trailed off.

Tony looked at him with hopeful light reflecting in his charcoal eyes.

Peter sighed, “I guess we can try one more time.”

“Thank you, baby,” Tony said as he smiled, “I know I don’t deserve it, but I swear that this time will be different.”

Peter nodded, “Okay.”

Despite his reservations, a small spark of hope ignited in his chest. He wanted, so strongly, to finally have a stable father figure in his life. He had yearned for it for years. Tony had offered to be there plenty of times only to disappear once he had collected what he wanted but, somehow, Peter truly believed that this time could be different.

That he could actually have what he’s wanted for so long. A family. A father who doesn’t abandon him.

“Let’s go tell your aunt the great news,” Tony said with a borderline smug smile on his face.

Peter simply rolled his eyes and complied as he so often did with Tony.

They entered the living room together. Tony’s hand rested firmly on Peter’s lower back as he held his son in a nearly painful grip.

May looked at them both, her eyes sharpening to daggers as she eyed Tony.

“He said he wanted to give me another chance,” Tony said.

May waved her hand at Tony dismissively.

She asked, “Peter, are you sure you want this?”

Peter went to answer but his words got stuck in a gasp as his father’s hold on him tightened substantially. It felt somewhat like a threat.

“Yeah,” Peter said after a short moment.

May paused and looked around, almost at a loss for words.

She sighed and said, “Alright, but-”

“I know,” Peter said.

Of course he knew, he was basically living in _Groundhog Day._ May would reassure him that if he didn’t want to see Tony then all he had to do was tell her and she would take care of it. Peter would reassure her that everything was fine - when it wasn’t - and then him and Tony would be on their way.

It’s bittersweet in its familiarity.

May sighed and offered a pitying smile.

“I need to go,” She said, “I got a call from my boss and one of the new workers just bailed so I gotta be there. I can drop you off at Ned’s if you want.”

Peter shook his head, “I’ll be fine, May.”

“Are you sure? Because-”

Tony smiled, “The kid said he’s fine, May, relax.”

The easy air quickly turned taut and tense when Tony spoke. Though, he seemed rather unaffected by it. He simply ignored the icy glare May was sending his way.

“I can’t relax when you’re around,” May said, “you destroy everything you come into contact with.”

Tony said, “Well, I’m buddies with Petey right here and he’s pretty intact.”

Peter had to stop himself from disagreeing with that sentiment. He was beyond broken. He was a million little pieces of broken glass scattered across the floor. Or, at the very least, that’s how he felt.

Despite that, he allowed himself to crack a smile while Tony playfully nudged him

May exhaled heavily as she said, “Fine, but give me a call if you need something.”

“Of course,” Peter agreed.

She left and the safety Peter felt followed her out the door.

Peter pulled himself from Tony’s hold. Tony was never particularly fond of when Peter would do that. Tony had always been a very tactile person, almost to an overbearing extent.

For a brief moment, gone as soon as it appeared, Peter flinched from his father in fear of some sort of retribution.

But, when no punishment was delivered Peter found himself flooded with relief. He hated that feeling.

Tony sat on the couch and grabbed the remote.

“I’ll stay here. Don’t want you getting up to any funny business,” Tony said with a smile.

Peter sat down next to his father, “That’s unlike you.”

“In what sense?” Tony asked.

Peter said, “You’re not the responsible type, so either you have ulterior motives or you’ve miraculously changed overnight.”

“I can be responsible when I want to,” Tony said, “I can’t help it that being reckless is considerably more fun.”

Peter shook his head and snatched the remote from Tony’s hand, “You don’t have a responsible bone in your washed-up celebrity body.”

“Wow,” Tony laughed in shock, “the audacity… washed-up? Kid, you have no idea who you just started a war with.”

Peter smiled, “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t fight the elderly.”

“The elderly?” Tony said with exaggerated disbelief, “This is slander of the highest degree.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Peter said.

Tony shook his head with a wide smile as he sat back into the couch.

“Elderly,” He repeated fondly to himself.

“Yep,” Peter said.

He put on _The Lego Movie,_ something about the childish and hopeful nature of it lifted his spirit. Also, he just liked Legos and animation.

He found himself getting embarrassingly invested in the plot almost immediately. He wasn’t normally self-conscious about his movie picks, but Tony’s presence heightened his self-awareness to unreasonable levels.

Then, a pillow hit him square in the face.

“If I were elderly could I do that?” Tony asked and, then, he tackled Peter and pinned him down to the couch. 

Tony pressed his fingers into Peter’s sides and tickled the poor, young man. 

Peter squeaked as everything picked up pace so suddenly.

“Stop it!” He said through his pained laughter.

He weakly pushed onto Tony in a futile attempt to get free.

“Please!” Peter begged through his unwitting laughter.

His hands pressed against Tony’s biceps and torso as he desperately tried to pry his father off of him.

Peter cried, “Stop!”

“Say you’re sorry,” Tony demanded.

Peter giggled, “Sorry! I’m sorry!”

Tony ceased. Peter inhaled several deep breaths as he gave Tony an ineffective glare.

“Aw,” Tony said with a fake pout, “you’re not mad at me, are you?”

Peter scrunched up his nose, “I’m not gonna be friends with a tickle monster.”

“Not even if I say that I’m sorry?” Tony smiled.

Peter said, “I think you’ve said sorry enough for one day.”

Tony laughed.

The room was dim save for the warm glow of a lamp in the corner of the room. The air felt still and everything seemed to freeze. There was a nostalgic summer warmth blooming within Peter’s chest.

Tony smiled, “You are so beautiful, baby.”

“Thank you,” Peter said.

He squirmed under Tony’s gaze. He felt like an insect being examined under a microscope.

Tony leaned into Peter. They were only a breath away. Peter paused as he resisted the urge to pull away.

“Tony,” Peter said as his eyes darted from Tony’s lips to his eyes.

Tony nodded, “Yes, honey?”

“You said this time would be different,” Peter whispered.

Tony said, “It is, Petey.”

“How?” Peter asked,

Tony said, voice soft and promising, “Just trust me. You’ll see.”

Peter nodded.

Tony leaned in and closed the gap between them. Their lips connected and locked together.

Peter accepted the kiss with trembling lips as his hands wrapped around Tony’s neck. Tony’s hands felt up Peter’s hips and lower back.

The kiss itself started off slowly. It felt more like a test than anything. As if Tony was afraid that even the slightest rough movement would scare Peter away.

Quickly enough though, the fires of passion devoured them both. Their lips clashed and fought with an ardent desire. It was a struggle for dominance, one that Tony would inevitably win. 

Peter moaned into the kiss and Tony nipped his lip in response.

Peter parted his lips easily and he allowed Tony to invade his mouth. The older man tasted like a vile mix of whiskey and coffee, but Peter couldn’t think of anything better.

Their lips moved together in a greedy grab for power. Tony’s tongue swiped across Peter’s. It made the younger man mewl as a pleasant feeling zapped him.

Peter’s hands travelled up to Tony’s soft, ash colored hair. Tony groaned in appreciation and deepened the kiss. It left Peter breathless.

Tony pushed Peter back against the armrest of the sofa as he pressed warm, wet kisses up and down Peter’s neck and jaw. His hands slipped underneath the loose science pun sweater Peter wore and groped his sensitive skin.

Peter gasped and shivered.

It all felt very overwhelming. Alarms were going off in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shut them off.

“Please, Tony,” Peter said, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

Tony smiled against Peter’s skin. It sent waves of want rolling through him and left him mewling for more.

It was so good and, yet, he wanted to vomit.

Tony only loved him when it was beneficial, otherwise the older man didn’t speak two words to him. That’s the way it’s been and probably always will be. Peter would simply have to make do with that.

He muffled his moans while Tony kissed and licked his delicate skin. His body had always been so sensitive and Tony knew how to take advantage of that.

“Let’s get this stuffy thing off of you, yeah?” Tony urged with a slight growl to his voice as he tugged at the hem of Peter’s sweater.

Peter nodded and helped Tony tug off the shirt. It was quickly discarded to the floor without a second thought.

Sex is the only way Tony could ever love him. Only in the dead of night when arousal burns away their inhibitions. It wasn’t fair, but it was what Peter had to do in order to keep his father in his life.

Peter huffed at his own thoughts.

He pulled Tony down into another kiss. This time Peter was in the lead and he kept it slow and romantic. Their lips danced together and his tongue swiped curiously on the roof of Tony’s mouth which made the older man laugh mutedly.

Peter’s fingers ran through Tony’s hair once more, he had always been fascinated with Tony’s hair.

Tony slowly pulled away, giving Peter a chance to tug him back in if he really wanted to.

They looked at each other for a moment.

“I’ll take care of you,” Tony said.

And Peter believed him. 

Peter laid down against the couch cushions and he closed his eyes. Tony hovered over Peter’s bare torso and glanced down to where Peter was still wearing jeans.

Tony took off Peter’s pants in an animalistic haste. He stared hard at Peter’s beautiful, spotless skin.

“God,” Tony said, “I want to ruin you, baby.”

_You already have._

Tony pressed a soft kiss right below Peter’s belly button.

Peter gasped and his hips bucked up on their own accord. Tony laughed against his skin which only made him shiver and shake more.

“My sensitive baby,” Tony said, voice husky and hot on Peter’s stomach.

Peter bit his lip in a weak attempt to contain his moans.

Tony then dragged his wet, warm tongue along the ivory skin of Peter’s stomach. It sent lightning through Peter’s nervous system, he was already going into overdrive.

“Please,” Peter said.

Tony continued pressing gentle kisses to Peter’s body. Each kiss, each movement of Tony’s wet mouth, sent soft waves of want rolling throughout Peter.

Peter whimpered and squirmed despite himself. But he couldn’t move much as Tony’s calloused hands held his hips down. Tony pressed featherlight kisses against his lower abdomen and it made him dreadfully lightheaded.

Peter gasped, “Please.”

“You’re so sweet when you’re like this,” Tony whispered. His hot breath ghosted over Peter’s skin.

Peter held onto one of Tony’s biceps, a fragile attempt to ground himself in the endless nothingness. One of Tony’s skilled fingers traced the elastic band of Peter’s boxers. One finger, nimble and mean, slipped under the elastic and snapped it against Peter’s skin.

Peter yelped despite it being painless.

“Don’t be a baby,” Tony said.

Peter pouted, “I thought I was your baby.”

“Mm,” Tony said, “I suppose you make a good point.”

Peter smiled through the darkness.

Tony then took to tugging off Peter’s pretty little boxers. They were of the childish sort, which was almost enough to provoke sympathy in the older man.

Peter shifted awkwardly along with Tony and eventually his boxers were discarded along with his sweater and jeans. The cold air hit his bare skin and sent ice running through his veins. Tony, though, was like a heater by nature.

And it wasn’t long before the room started to fill with the unbearable heat of arousal and sex.

Tony asked, voice throaty, “Do you want me, baby?”

“Yes,” Peter said breathlessly, “I want you so bad.”

Tony smiled, “I want you too.”

Peter ignored the sickness that swelled up within his stomach. However, he couldn't ignore the static like buzzing that filled his ears.

Tony's hands traced the creamy skin of Peter's thighs. A molten pool of want burned within him.

Peter's own dick was flushed at the tip and hard from all of Tony's precise attentions. It was considerably smaller than Tony's, though, and that's something the older man took great joy pointing out.

“You’re so adorable,” Tony said. There was a distinct teasing in his tone.

Peter couldn’t be bothered to point it out.

Tony said, “Be a good boy for me and spread your legs.”

Peter obeyed dutifully. His legs fell open as if it was simply second nature to him.

“So good for me,” Tony praised.

Tony’s praise never failed to illuminate a fierce warmth within Peter’s cold chest.

Peter trembled. He was so vulnerable, so exposed. He felt like he should’ve been more used to that feeling.

Tony smiled and adjusted Peter so that he was almost folded in half. Peter panted, breathing suddenly becoming a labored task. His body ached slightly, but it only increased his arousal - much to his humiliation.

The position provided Tony a clear view of Peter's tight, pink hole. Tony had once referred to Peter's asshole as pretty. Peter was sure he could never be more embarrassed. 

He jolted and gasped when a slick finger pressed against him.

Peter's legs spread wider without a second thought, though. His mouth, similarly, moved on its own accord as he thoughtlessly said, "You scare me."

The words were muffled and quiet from his position, but Tony, ever observant, picked up on them anyways.

“I know, baby,” Tony said, “I’m sorry.”

Peter shut his eyes tight, “Don’t say that. Stop saying that, please.”

He hated how exposed he was. Hated how vulnerable he was. Hated everything about this situation. But he wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Admittledy, Peter would rather have this than the neverending loneliness he was so used to.

“I love you so much,” Tony said.

Peter tried to suffocate and kill the relief those words gave him.

Tony said, his words as predatory as his smile, "My pretty little cocksleeve. You're so perfect. I trained you to take this cock good, huh?"

Peter knew he wasn’t meant to answer that question. His answer wouldn’t matter to Tony anyways.

Two of Tony's slippery fingers breached Peter's entrance. He inhaled a sharp breath and his grip on the couch cushions tightened. It wasn’t an entirely foreign feeling, though it still felt somewhat alien even after all this time. Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to it.

“Tony,” Peter whispered.

Tony smiled, “What do you need, baby?”

“I don’t-” Peter’s voice cracked off into an aborted moan as Tony’s fingers curled and twisted within his sweet insides.

Tony said, “I bet you can’t wait to get my cock inside you.”

Peter moaned and grabbed onto the side of the couch for support. A sharp spike of pleasure went straight down his spine and made him jolt into Tony’s touch - or away from it, Peter wasn’t sure.

“Huh, baby?” Tony urged, “Tell Daddy what you need.”

Peter whined, but no words dared leave his mouth.

Tony said, “Baby, Daddy can’t give you what you need if you don’t tell him.”

“I need you to…” Peter said in between pathetic mewls, “stop referring to yourself in the third person. You sound like an ah-!”

Tony fucked his fingers into Peter particularly hard and Peter’s words were choked off into a high-pitched, desperate whine.

Tony smiled, “What was that, darling? I didn’t quite catch it the first time.”

Peter decided it best not to repeat himself to which Tony gave him a dark, approving smile.

The fingers scissored Peter open. Pain was burning faintly on the edges of his vision. A sensual arousal stirred deep within his very core. 

“God,” Peter said with a strained voice, “please.”

Tony said, “God isn’t here to help you now, baby.”

The fingers within Peter invaded his body and tortured him with the featherlight pleasure and candlewick pain. His body demanded more, more, more, despite being at it’s brink already.

Tony - an expert in many things, sex being almost at the very top of that list - knew exactly how to twist and cross and hook his fingers within Peter to stretch the younger man out.

Tony's rough fingertips felt so _perfect_ running along the raw, sensitive walls of Peter's insides.

He gasped and twitched with every slight movement Tony made.

His head fell back as he relished in the brief, dismal bliss of being fingered by his father.

Tony muttered, purposefully loud enough that Peter could hear it, “Whore.”

Peter didn’t mind. He couldn’t really. What other word suited a son who gladly took the fingers and cock of his own father?

It felt as if an eternity had passed when Tony pulled his fingers out of Peter. He watched with heavy eyes as Peter's tight hole fluttered from the sudden emptiness.

“What do you say, baby, are you ready to take Daddy’s cock?” Tony asked with a vague sort of taunt to his words.

Peter simply smiled as he nodded, though he felt as if he might have been dying.

Tony pressed a gentle, soothing hand to Peter's face and then began raking his fingers through his son's wavy brown locks.

"My good boy," Tony praised, "my sweet little boy."

Peter's eyes closed as he melted into the touch. He lost himself.

Tony said, "When I'm done with you no one will ever question who you belong to again."

Peter didn't have time to question those words.

The blunt head of Tony's thick cock poked at Peter's prepared hole. Tony's cock had always been a magnificent thing.

To Peter it was, anyway.

It was girthy - Peter could just barely wrap his hand around it - and it was long as well. The tip was often flushed a bright red when aroused. Not to mention the bush of black pubic hair that rested at the base. 

Peter gulped and flinched as his father's cock threatened to enter him. 

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Tony said, “you know Daddy will take care of you.”

The words made something instinctual within Peter recoil, but he didn’t dare move from Tony’s touch. 

A bright ache began burning in Peter's legs and back due to the position he was in. Tony didn't seem to notice his discomfort. Though even if he did notice he wouldn't care.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” Tony said, “you’re gonna be begging for it, bitch.”

He then pushed the tip of his heady cock into Peter's body. Peter gasped through a half-hearted protest and, soon enough, all reasonable thought left him. 

In an instant the only thing Peter could process was the fiery feeling within him. Despite being thoroughly fingered and prepped Tony's cock still strained against his tight walls.

Tony sunk deeper and deeper within Peter's taut, presented ass.

Peter felt like he was being torn in half. Like his body was being pried open. He loved it. 

It burned. Lust fogged his mind and his vision blurred. Every ounce of rationality fully fled him.

“Please,” Peter managed to choke out with a strained voice.

Tony groaned and Peter, with what sight he had left, could see that his face was scrunched up in pleasure. As if the feeling of sinking his cock into Peter was so intensely euphoric that it was _painful_ to resist slamming into him.

Tony's eyes opened and his pupils were dilated so wide that the blackness nearly eclipsed the whiskey brown of his eyes.

He sunk his dick deeper and deeper into the warmth of Peter's twink ass.

Peter gasped. He could feel every single inch pushing deeper inside of him. It left him breathless and light-headed.

He held his own legs up and open while still being basically folded in half. It made his muscles burn and the mind-numbing pleasure of Tony's unbearable cock only served to make the experience that much more overpowering.

Tears began pooling in his eyes and he prayed to God that Tony wouldn't notice.

“Oh,” Tony growled out, “my sweet baby's crying. Is my cock too much for you, darling?”

Peter couldn’t think.

Tony reached his hilt inside of Peter. It was the younger man's breaking point.

He felt like he was on fire and his mind filled with smoke. Every single thick inch throbbed within Peter's body. He could _feel_ it and it made him feral.

“Fu-ck me, Daddy-!” Peter yelped out and Tony pulled out and thrust back into him.

Tony said, “You want me to fuck you, baby? How bad? Huh, baby, how bad? Beg for it if you’re that desperate.”

“Fuck me, please. Please, please, please. I’ll do anything, daddy, just fuck me. Please, I need it, please,” Peter blabbered as his dignity left him easily.

If he were stronger he’d at least have the decency to be ashamed for falling prey to such sexual deviancy.

Peter continued, “Please, please! I need you to fuck me. Please! I love your cock. I need it. Plea-!”

Tony’s cock slammed into him and everything went blank for a beautifully blissful moment.

Peter's entire world turned into a blindingly bright white. 

Tony began fucking into him and picked up pace nearly immediately. His cock assaulted the deepest parts of Peter over and over until the poor boy was gasping for air.

The thrusts were rhythmic and precise. Tony just kept hitting the most fragile spots within Peter and it felt as if it was never going to end. Like Tony’s cock would never let up its brutal pummeling of his prostate.

Peter was light-headed and weak and Tony took his legs over his shoulders. It would’ve made Peter smile if he had been aware enough to recognize the gesture.

Instead, he was too cock drunk to even think of his own name.

He felt like he was being burned alive. Air heaved into his lungs as Tony continued to fuck him with little remorse.

Peter moaned out, “God! Yes!”

His head fell back and he allowed his eyes to clench shut and uncross when they opened. The mass amounts of pleasure too much for him to reasonably bear.

“Give it to me!” Peter heaved out.

Tony’s thrusts grew brutal as he fucked Peter into the couch. Peter only gasped and yelped. He struggled to keep up with the deep, intrusive plunges of Tony’s massive manhood.

How could anyone ever resist this?

Peter’s body twitched and spasmed on its own accord as he thoughtlessly fucked back into the neverending pleasure of Tony. There was a familiar dull burn due to the stretch of Tony’s prick.

Tony had always been unfairly large.

Peter could feel every single long, thick, unyielding inch of Tony’s perfect cock. It stretched him open wide and fucked him into submission. Peter could hardly think or speak besides the occasional plea for more.

His grip on the couch tightened and an intense ache formed deep within his very core. His cock ached so much and he could feel his orgasm building up. It was a tight pressure that seemed to just keep going.

Every thrust sent Peter lurching forward and spiraling into another endless pit of sinful pleasure. His vision was filled with spots of white and his voice was hoarse from his slutty moans and pleas.

Tony’s cock slammed right into that _perfect_ spot repeatedly. So hard, so fast, that Peter thought he might actually die from it.

Peter’s back arched in a pitiful attempt to obtain as much pleasure as possible. He was a greedy bitch chasing his climax. It just kept getting hotter and hotter and he couldn’t possibly think about anything other than cumming on Tony’s thick, hard cock.

“The only time your dad likes you is when he’s balls deep inside of you,” Tony hissed next to Peter’s ear.

Peter couldn’t respond. He could only moan helplessly as he was pinned down and fucked into the couch.

“Dumb cockslut,” Tony growled.

Peter nodded mindlessly.

His eyes crossed and his mouth opened as silent moans left him.

He was wrecked and weak and all he could do was whimper on Tony’s thick cock. His entire body was aflame with pleasure. He couldn’t think past Tony’s long cock slamming in and out of him, fucking him into endless oblivion.

He gasped, “Yes, please-!”

“You close, bitch?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded frantically.

He could feel it. The white-hot pleasure building like tidal waves within him. It tightened within him and nearly took him over. 

The pressure within him kept getting tighter and tighter. He couldn't handle it. He let out a series of desperate pleas and cried as he clawed at the cushions.

Tony continued to fuck ruthlessly into him. Over and over again the older man kept slamming into his prostate. It was all too much. Too much. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Peter moaned, his voice entirely cracked, entirely wrecked.

Tony groaned, “Yeah, my dumb little slut’s going to cum on my cock, huh?”

Peter's eyes clenched shut and pathetic noises left his cherry stained lips. Everything burned so goddamn good. He couldn't fucking think.

His entire body spasmed and tightened around Tony's cock, as if he was trying to pull the thick appendage deeper within him. Desperate, broken moans were torn from Peter's sore throat. His mind was wiped black from the pleasure as white cum painted his flat stomach.

He had cum so hard he feared he'd never breathe properly again.

It certainly didn’t help that Tony continued to fuck Peter’s wrecked body. His thrusts devolved into something animalistic as he chased his own finish.

The slap of skin against skin got louder, lewder, _meaner._

Peter only gasped and mewled. He was entirely at the mercy of the malevolent man above him. 

His head tossed back and forth and he swam around in the endless pleasure. It was never ending and brutal and he begged for it to end.

Tony's brutal fucking slowed and and slammed into Peter a couple more times before a flood of sticky, warm cum filled him.

There was a brief moment of peaceful silence as they both basked in the afterglow of their orgasms. Everything was perfectly still for a moment. Despite the uncomfortable stickiness and the unbearable humidity Peter found himself wishing they could be like this all the time.

Their breaths melded together. Tony's fingers lightly traced intricate patterns into Peter's delicate skin. 

“I’ll get us cleaned up, baby,” Tony said after a moment, his voice similarly wrecked.

Peter didn’t even have the strength to nod this time.

* * *

May walked into her apartment and was briefly taken aback by the domestic sight that greeted her.

Peter and Tony were watching a movie. Tony’s arm was wrapped around Peter while Peter leaned into his warmth.

Both of them looked up at May’s presence.

She looked worn out. Her hair stuck out of place and dark bags shadowed under her hollow eyes.

“Peter and I had a great time while you were working. Not to rub it in or anything,” Tony said with a smile.

Peter nodded with a weak smile, “Yeah.”

“You look like a trainwreck,” Tony said, “no offense.”

May glared at him hard and went to say something before Tony cut her off.

“Let me take Peter for the weekend,” He said, “so you can have some ‘you’ time.”

May said, “Peter isn’t my issue.”

“Of course, but wouldn’t it be nice to have the apartment to yourself for two days?” Tony prodded, “And, besides, me and Peter need to catch up. We haven’t spoken in a month or so.”

“Three,” Peter said.

Tony looked at him inquisitively, “Hm?”

“Three months,” Peter said.

Tony nodded, “Ah, three months.”

“Peter,” May said, “do you want to spend the weekend with Tony?”

Peter paused and felt a familiar tension building in his chest. Tony’s grip on Peter tightened slightly and Peter swore he heard him growl.

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” May asked.

Peter said, “I am one-hundred percent sure.”

“Alright,” She conceded.

Tony smiled and stood.

He towered over Peter and casted a heavy shadow over him.

“Go pack your stuff, kid,” Tony said, “I have a feeling your Aunt might want to set some ground rules.”

Peter nodded and scurried off to pack his clothes and toiletries, though he probably wouldn’t be needing them as Tony already had that stuff back at the Tower. Tony much preferred it when Peter used the stuff provided for him instead of bringing his own supplies.

Peter could still hear their talking through his flimsy bedroom door.

“If he comes back here with so much as a scratch on his head, Stark, I swear to God I’ll-” May said.

Tony interjected, “Yeah, yeah, May. He’ll be taken care of.”

“By a hired assistant or something?” May asked with vitriol in her voice.

Tony scoffed, “I get that you hate my guts but have a little faith. It wouldn’t be some assistant, it would be Happy.”

There was silence.

“What?” Tony asked, “It was funny.”

“I don’t think so,” May said.

Peter sighed as he zipped up his backpack and walked into the living room.

Instantly, May put up a polite front as if her and Tony were on perfectly good terms. And Tony still had a cocky smile plastered on his face.

“Ready to go already, kiddo?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded.

He walked over to May and Tony. May kissed him goodbye while Tony was already leaving.

“Call me if you change your mind,” May whispered.

Peter gave her a reassuring smile, “I will.”

He had to run to catch up to Tony. He huffed as he got into the black car. It wasn’t the older man’s usual flashy style. Peter was relieved for that small mercy at least.

“Could you stop provoking my Aunt?” Peter asked as he buckled in.

Tony said, “I didn’t know I was doing anything of the sort.”

“Can’t you afford personal drivers?” Peter asked.

Tony said, “I can.”

“Why don’t you?”

Tony gave him a brief look, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“I have to,” Peter said, “considering I don’t get to speak to you often.”

Tony made a noise but didn’t acknowledge that comment further.

Peter asked, after a moment of silence, “So, why don’t you?”

“Why don’t I what?”

Peter sighed, “Why don’t you hire drivers?”

“I only trust myself to drive. Every driver I’ve had is incompetent,” Tony said.

Peter said, “Happy?”

“He’s a friend who I gave a job. If you’ve been paying attention you would have noticed that motherfucker doesn’t touch the steering wheel when I’m in the car,” Tony said.

Peter shook his head, “You’re such a dick.”

“Yep, but why exactly in this moment do you say that?” Tony asked.

Peter said, “It’s obvious in everything you say and do that the only thing you care about is yourself. And, you don’t respect anybody else beyond that. It’s like you see everyone else as stepping stones to get ahead. It’s sick.”

“Sicker than taking your Dad’s cock like a whore?” Tony asked.

His face was entirely straight as he said that. How he could say something so vulgar entirely stoically was a mystery to poor Peter Parker.

Peter felt a sickly bile rise in his throat again. He couldn’t find it within himself to speak.

Tony said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Fuck you,” Peter spat.

Tony laughed, “You are always so quick to bark, but do you have any bite?”

Peter glared at Tony, but Tony didn’t even spare him a glance.

“See?” Tony said, “Even now, you’re too afraid to say anything.”

Peter sneered, “I am not afraid.”

“Then why don’t you ever say what you want to say, Petey?” Tony asked, though the question seemed rhetorical in a taunting way.

Peter paused.

He said, “I guess I’m just a better person than you.”

Tony smiled, “You won’t be for long, sweetheart.”

Peter’s throat burned as he forced his tears down. He refused to give Tony the satisfaction of making him cry.

_Dear God, what did I do to deserve this?_

“Could you just fucking stop being an asshole for one moment?” Peter hissed as his voice cracked.

Tony said, “I thought you wanted some quality time with me? I can turn this car around if you can’t handle it.”

“You know you’re being a piece of shit - and that’s the worst part! - you could be better if you tried, but you refuse,” Peter said.

Tony said, “I am exactly who I need to be, baby, I have an empire and you live in some ratty ass apartment.”

“At least I’m not a predator,” Peter muttered.

Tony laughed, “Predator? Are you kidding me, kid? You were literally fucking begging for it.”

Peter choked and tears began streaming down his face. He couldn’t stop it. It burned so bad. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted it to go back to the naive, blissful childhood he used to have.

“That’ll hold up real good in court, honey,” Tony taunted and then mimicked Peter, “I cried for my dad’s cock but got upset when he gave it to me.”

Peter sniffled weakly and pawed at the tears rolling down his face.

Tony smiled, “The only person who would believe you is May, but it’s not like it’d be hard to get rid of her if I needed to.”

Peter whimpered. He resisted the urge to jump out of the car. He fought back every inch of sorrow within him.

“Do you want that?” Tony said, “Do you want me to kill May because you were such a filthy whore you _made_ me fuck you, huh?”

Peter cried, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Tony said, “Do you want me to stop telling you the truth?”

Peter shook his head. He couldn’t stop crying. His heart hammered away in his chest. There was an unpleasant buzzing in his ears. He was alone.

Peter whimpered, “Please stop, Tony, you’re scaring me.”

Tony complied.

The rest of the drive to the tower was silent.

Peter scurried away as soon as he had gotten the chance. There was a room set up for him, still exactly the same as he left it three months ago.

Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to hide for long. He was on Tony’s turf. He was only able to lock himself in his room because Tony allowed it.

His legs and body were filled with exhaustion from the day’s earlier events. His entire body reeled as he recalled what happened. He felt like he was going to vomit.

He decided to hide under the covers and curl up into a small ball instead. He cried until he fell asleep.


End file.
